I am 20 years old and I have Aspbergers Syndrome, a mild form of Autism. Lyla has been with me since I was about 8. The vet estimated she was 2-3. This last year, her health has been in a slow decline. She has weight issues, and it is hard to keep her weight up. She eats plenty, but like many senior cats I've met, she's pretty thin. My baby girl is the first pet I've ever had, and still is. It is so hard to think of not having her around, but... At the same time I know that she isn't feeling well. Her last meal will be 6 hours prior.she loves seafood, but will not be getting any because she is very sensitive to it. Instead, she will get half a slice of bacon, a serving (like a tablespoon) of sweet potato and marshmallow casserole (she loves it, definitely her mama's girl!), ground beef and and small saucer of lactose free milk. When ai got her, she was very sick. She had fleas galore and the vet told us she was very allergic to them and if they weren't dealt with it could result in a deadly reaction. She was prescribed flea drops and once she was home she got them on. We thought she would get better. However... She got even sicker. She vomited up everything she had eaten prior and fell into a coma-like state. She responded to us, but she was sluggish and slow. We thought the fleas had taken their toll and that she was treated too late. I was heartbroken. She came to MY room through the front door, she chose to come to ME. My dad couldn't stand seeing me so upset, and at work he couldn't stop thinking about it. At work, out of the blue, he called my mom and told her to wash the flea medicine off. We did. We ran the shower attachment and began to thoroughly wash her. Within hours she was snuggling. The next morning she was playing and eating. I was so happy, and seeing my joy, my father couldn't separate us. The original plan was to heal her up and give her a family friend because my dad is mildly allergic to cats. He and my mom sat me down Lyla, I thought they were going to have me say goodbye. Instead, I was saying hello to who was soon going to be my best friend, the rock I leaned on when upset and stressed and still do, and the girl I go to for comfort when I don't feel like speaking with other humans. She was also an aid in the difficult and scary world of socialization. When new people (or even old ones) came over, she kept me out of my room and helped me to stay out in that social environment. These 12 years have gone by fast... Too fast for my taste, because with my next pet-sitting pay I will be helping to pay for her last day with me. People can try, but it is IMPOSSIBLE to describe how making this decision feels. The best I can do is say that I know it is right, but it feels like I am murdering her. I am making the nearly impossible decision to end her life... She will be gone. Forever. And just the thought makes it feel like my heart is being crushed within my chest. I will have a huge hole in my heart and it may never go away. That scares me.